


like apples to earth

by karples



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Slice of Life, Snapshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8255872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karples/pseuds/karples
Summary: Or: Goodnight and Billy, before.





	

Billy was peeling an apple with a knife he’d swiped from the inn. His hands were steady, and the apple skin corkscrewed in his lap like scalloped lace.

“Y’know, you’d make a mean chef,” Goodnight said, just to have something to say. Billy slanted him a wry look through his hair, which was falling out of its bun, and Goodnight had the sudden irrepressible urge to tuck it behind Billy’s ear.

Goodnight folded his arms, this time to have something to hold. “‘S true,” he said. “There’s solid pay in big cities for people who can do fancy tricks with knives. Carved ice, chocolate sculptures, all kinda decadence. You ever been to New York, Billy?”

Billy flicked a shaving at Goodnight’s face. “Do you always talk when you’re uncomfortable?” he asked, direct as always, and as always, Goodnight felt like he’d taken a cannonball to the chest. Damn difficult thing to witness, even more difficult to experience--people didn’t die fast enough. Life had a nasty habit of sticking around when a body just wanted to move the hell on.

“No, I’m not uncomfortable,” Goodnight said gamely. “I just run my mouth. Does that bother you?”

Billy shook his head. “Of course not.” He shifted and fit the smile of an apple slice to his own. He was missing his first premolar from taking a metal bar to the face; Goodnight knew, because his tongue had found it last night. Now _that_ was a thought. “You have a lot of things to say. I don’t always say the things I want to say. I wonder if you’re bored.”

Goodnight snorted. “Mind you, I don’t hang around for entertainment. Why don’t you say what you want to say?”

Billy shrugged. “It doesn’t seem important until later.”

“How ‘bout we play a game,” Goodnight said, leaning back on a palm, one arm draped over his belly. “What're you thinking about now?”

Billy fixed him with an odd look. The untrimmed grass cut into Goodnight’s hand the same way Billy’s lovely face, dappled in shadow, cut into his chest, a feeling too much to name.

“Billy,” Goodnight said, and before he could continue Billy darted in, pressing a firm kiss to Goodnight’s mouth. Goodnight’s heart leapt like a fish, fins flashing, arteries humming, and he reached for Billy’s neat waist, wanting the texture of cotton and Billy’s shape to fill his hands.

Billy receded, pulling back too soon. After a beat, he said, “You should shave.”

“Is that what you were thinking?” Goodnight asked, sundazed. “That I should shave?”

Billy caught the end of Goodnight’s beard between his fingers, sticky with apple juice. “Too much in the way of kissing,” he said, like he was divulging a very important secret.

They stared at each other for a moment, lips pressed into thin lines, trembling, and then they surrendered to laughter.


End file.
